


the sun in your eyes

by gingermaggie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, blink and you'll miss it minty because this is less than 2k but i still couldn't not, did i watch it? no. am i writing about it like i did? yeah., just another post s4 finale fic, the season four finale made me excited again, yeah i haven't watched since the beginning of season 3 what's your point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 18:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11064564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingermaggie/pseuds/gingermaggie
Summary: It's weird being back on the ground. Bellamy had forgotten just how difficult it is to survive on Earth--between apocalypses and all, but also just in the day to day. The uneven terrain, the erratic weather, the sheer amount of space. So Earth still doesn't feel quite like his home.Clarke, though. Clarke does.





	the sun in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt sent by [mairead](http://call-me-maib.tumblr.com), who asked for bellarke and "a drabble about one character asking another character to join them." It spiraled. 
> 
> Full disclosure, I haven't watched since 3x2, but I keep up with the spoilers and the s4 finale made me excited about canon for the first time in a really long time, so I had to jump on the speculation fantasyland bandwagon. 
> 
> As is my wont, this is basically just fluff. Enjoy!
> 
> \--
> 
> Title from Weight of Living, Pt. 1 by Bastille

 

It's surreal, being on the ground.

In some ways, it's nothing like the first time. He remembers stepping out cautiously, terrified out of his mind but trying very hard not to show it. He remembers his sister's delighted shriek-- _"We're back, bitches!"_ The yelling and cheering, the sheer shock at the impossibility of it all, the knowledge that he wasn't there yet, that he was going to have to keep running, might always have to keep running. The understanding that whatever Earth was to the hundred delinquents, it wasn't home to him. 

The second time down wasn't like that. It's all sort of a blur, while that initial drop is burned into his memory in vivid color. He's pretty sure the ship had barely touched the ground before he'd leapt across the length of it and shoved the door open, Raven's shout about air tests and perimeter checks and some semblance of a plan chasing vaguely after him, on the ground without any fanfare, any reverence, any indication he'd missed it for the last six years. He was running before he even saw her, because he knew, somehow, knew she was there after the endless radio silence and the burning planet and the extra year of delay, because his feet knew exactly where to go to get to her as she barreled into his arms and he clutched her so close he couldn't breathe. 

"Clarke," he said, and she let out a laugh that settled into tears. 

He didn't look at her for a long time. First because looking at her meant holding her a lot looser than he ever wanted to again, and then because looking at her hurt. 

How do you handle getting the one thing you've wanted for six years--longer, even--and never dreamed you'd get to have? Looking at her showed every mark of six years of separation, and every feature he remembered from before. Looking at her showed fierce blue eyes lit up with relief and joy and what he has to assume is love. It's hair cropped shorter than he's ever seen it and streaked with red, confidence and contentment and a lack of self loathing that means everything to him after seeing Wanheda nearly destroy Clarke Griffin. It is every inch the girl he loved, the girl he loves, the girl he will always love. 

It's been a few weeks now, since that second landing, and looking at her still feels like a precious gift he hasn't earned. Monty says he needs to talk to her about it or he's going to come across as not caring, which. Monty obviously knows that's bullshit, because Clarke's smile makes it clear she knows exactly how Bellamy feels about her. But it's different for Monty. He's spending a lot of his time drinking in the sight of Miller, but he didn't spend six years anticipating the opportunity to. He just got to the ground and saw him and thought, _oh. That's right. There's you._ It's an entirely different experience, especially five years post your last breakup. Which was in space. 

All that's not to say Bellamy doesn't spend time with Clarke. It's pretty much all he does, aside from spending time with Octavia. And even then, Clarke's there half the time. With the group from the bunker retrieved, and that group, the space crew, and Clarke and Madi all mixing together, there's a lot of decisions and plans to make, and Octavia was quick to turn to the original co-leaders of the delinquent camp to share the burden of leadership. And after the burdens they've shared together, this one feels impossibly manageable. 

So they help create work schedules and supervise the building of cabins and common quarters and community buildings and hear concerns and put together hunting parties and allocate resources and really it's just like old times, except they're usually holding hands and a lot of the time Bellamy talks to Clarke only looking at her out of the corner of his eye. If it bothers her, she doesn't say anything. He'd like to think she understands. She always seems to understand. He's working his way up to believing she exists again.

It's weird being back in other ways, too. He'd forgotten just how difficult it is to survive on Earth--between apocalypses and all, but also just in the day to day. The uneven terrain, the erratic weather, the sheer amount of space. He forgot what it was like to fight for your food. The mix of algae and limited rations as a diet in space sucked, but at least the math was done right and he knew he'd always have it, no problem. Now he has to relearn how to shoot a gun, how to hunt, how to tell which plants are safe, when everything is scarcer now, everything in the somewhat wrecked world just a little harder to deal with than when he left. So Earth still doesn't feel quite like his home.

Clarke, though. Clarke does. 

They're standing on the outskirts of a newly built cabin neighborhood, near the community center they've been using as a home base. It has a few quarters attached to it, including the one where they spend their nights, curled around each other, breathing in the same time but not daring to do more. The settlement has grown impossibly quick, but Bellamy figures humanity has proven itself capable of the impossible time and time again. 

They stand in silence for a while, until finally Bellamy takes a breath. He doesn't look at Clarke when he says, gruff, "You think it's finally time for that drink?"

He knows she's smiling because he can feel the air change, but there's something off about it. For a terrible second, he's transported back in time, thinks he's going to wake up from a dream and find himself standing outside the gates of Camp Jaha, the breeze blowing across his face as he invites Clarke to share a drink and the air shifts and she refuses, takes all the burden she can carry and more and leaves. For a second he can feel her lips against his cheek, firm and miserable, gone too soon, and his heart stops with the fear of losing her. 

He looks at her, and her smile is wistful. Tears are gathered at the edges of her eyes. "I love you, Bellamy."

His forehead drops to press against hers before he's even really processed what she said, and he can't stop looking at her now. 

"I love you," she says again, a little shakier, like she's afraid that--what? That he doesn't feel the same? She's smarter than that. 

"Clarke," he says. It's a promise, a prayer. It's the answer she's looking for. It's a word that's meant the same thing as _love_ for years now. Still, he can speak the common language. "I love you. I'm not going to make a speech about it--"

"That's new for you," she interrupts, lit up, delighted, grateful, and he shoots her a good-natured look. 

He presses on. "But I have wanted to tell you that every day for over six years."

In reply, she surges up and kisses him, and that kiss is everything. It is Earth and space and fear and friendship and life and death and partners and lovers and everything in between. It's a kiss to make up for the time it took to get there, and a kiss that savors every step along the way, proves that every hard choice, every sacrifice, every separation, was not in vain. 

"Fuck, I love you, you asshole," Clarke says. 

Bellamy laughs. And it feels so good to laugh. "Love you too, princess." He kisses the tip of her nose.

"Now let's go get that drink," she says. 

And so they do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come hang out on tumblr--I'm [thebluestgansey](http://thebluestgansey.tumblr.com). Prompts are always open, no guarantees on speed.


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